


Fated To Need

by mirqueen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 01:52:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirqueen/pseuds/mirqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus Snape had never been one to believe in fate or destiny. But if he had been, he rather thought Albus and Minerva were fated to need each other as much as any two people in the annals of ancient folklore. (AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fated To Need

Disclaimer: I do not own or make any profit from _Harry Potter_. It belongs to J.K. Rowling, etc.

A/N:I don’t know exactly where I was going with this very short piece, I just felt the need to write it. Clearly I’m in a mood to write _Order of the Phoenix_ one-shots. Severus and the rest of the staff are OOC, I’m sure, but that’s creative license for you.

> **Fated To Need**

Not a moment after returning to Hogwarts – cane, carpet bag, and sarcasm in tow – it was plainer than the nose on one’s face that Minerva McGonagall felt at ease in the familiar environment as she had not felt for months on end. Strangely enough, in spite of the obviousness of this fact, few people seemed to recognize the change at all.

Severus Snape, contrary to his dense colleagues, could pinpoint the exact millisecond the Head of Gryffindor’s shoulders loosened and her eyes relaxed from a near-permanent narrowing. That was just the sort of effect Dolores Umbridge could leave upon those surrounding her for more than a few minutes, let alone a full school year. The potions master knew precisely how the deputy headmistress must have felt; his own eyebrows felt somehow lighter mere minutes after he heard that Umbridge was packing.

Not a day later, Severus was rather displeased to find Minerva had reverted to the same tension and anxious postures of before. The most unfortunate part of it all was the addition of various pained grimaces, sluggish movements, and discomfiting winces the witch had begun to sport when she thought no one was paying attention. Frankly, not many  _were_  paying attention, which Severus thought entirely careless and irresponsible considering Minerva’s current physical condition.

On a certain level, he could understand the staff’s complete upheaval after Umbridge’s departure and the public revelation of the dark lord’s return, therefore leaving the staff to a subsequent rush of plans and preparations that would ensure students’ safety and also put into place the teaching plans Umbridge had curtailed so severely during her reign. It was chaotic and Severus understood that well enough. Dumbledore’s all-day meeting schedules at the ministry, started the very day after Umbridge’s removal, did not help matters. But the headmaster was the only one who could truly set things straight about the dark lord and the ministry’s pushy interventions at Hogwarts.

Regardless of all this, Severus felt distinctly frustrated by the staff’s lack of attention regarding their deputy headmistress. Poppy, much as she could pick out a slight cold or a scratch on the merest signs of a symptom, didn’t seem to be looking much at Minerva’s flinches or vaguely-agonized mobility. Either Minerva had lied very satisfactorily to the mediwitch about her condition or the healer thought it was all part and parcel of a medical situation she had no experience with. They had, after all, been forced to move Minerva to St. Mungo’s for treatment. Poppy was experienced, but not to the level of the professionals required to treat Professor McGonagall’s current health situation. It all rankled considerably to the Head of Slytherin, especially since he noticed all of it without a hitch, despite his own growing concerns with his position on both sides of a rickety fence.

There was, however, nothing that he could do. Minerva would as soon hex him as accept assistance, which led to the fact that there was no real assistance to be given in the first place. Everything relied on her medications and treatments, which were no longer the responsibility of St. Mungo’s Hospital but of Minerva herself. Severus honestly believed Minerva was doing her best, but the workload she had come back to was practically insurmountable without Albus at her side.

Unfortunately, Albus was not comfortably free until two weeks after his original return to the school. Hence why the staff was now gathered, on Minerva’s orders, in the Headmaster’s office. Dumbledore was to return sometime after dinner to make some headway in safety measures and the following year’s staff roster, among other organizational topics. Until the headmaster’s unspecified arrival time, Minerva set out to create some preliminary ideas so there was some sort of framework for Albus to sink his teeth into without unnecessary waiting.

It was when the first unofficial topic arose – as Pomona wondered about the end of year staff reports – that Severus started to realize how much in disarray Minerva’s work and focus had become since the attack.

Discomfort bloomed on the deputy headmistress’ features when Pomona obliviously asked, “My first item of interest is the reports. I know you won’t give them to us until Albus has approved them, Minerva, but do you think you could just give us a gist of how you’ve corrected Umbridge’s idiocy? It must have been next to impossible to not just cross her comments out completely.”

Highly uncomfortable, Minerva reluctantly admitted, “I’m afraid I haven’t gotten to the staff reports as yet, Pomona.”

A brief pause, almost negligible in length but nevertheless significant, bespoke Pomona’s surprise.

"You haven’t even looked at them?" Filius wondered, equally surprised.

"No, I’m afraid I haven’t had time yet," Minerva confessed, fidgeting in her seat as the staff glanced at her from the corners of their eyes.

"No matter," Charity blithely waved it off, though she too was obviously surprised. "Let’s just move on to class scheduling. Minerva and I were discussing the unfortunate time slots of muggle studies and ancient runes this year. Bathsheda, I’m certain you won’t soon forget the trouble we had getting students to focus."

"Oh, the timing was wretched," Bathsheda groaned. "What was the point of holding a class so close to dinner? Hungry stomachs and pending darkness don’t equal concentration."

"That was what Minerva said," Charity laughed a bit. "For me, I just feel that muggle studies started much too soon after transfiguration for the students to be on time. That was why I asked her to arrange the schedule in the first place."

"Oh, Minerva, thank goodness," Bathsheda exhaled in relief. "I thought I would go mad with that schedule. What did you come up with instead?"

Minerva’s blanched face spoke all too well as to what she came up with. And that was absolutely nothing. Severus was beginning to worry about her, not that he would ever admit it to anyone out loud.

"I’m so sorry, Charity, Bathsheda," Minerva apologized quietly. "That was another thing I didn’t quite have time for."

A longer pause stole over the group as this second missed item laid a wrench in the meeting’s progress.

"Oh… " Pomona awkwardly remarked, "I didn’t know you were  _that_  distracted lately.”

On the outside, the comment might have seemed like a friendly comment, a word to the wise, but Severus heard the disbelief therein. Minerva did not appear to be anything more than mildly uncomfortable, but the potions master was too well trained in body language to miss the slight stiffening of her shoulders. Pomona’s thoughtless words now irritated Severus, but he shrugged it off as lingering effects of the high inquisitor.

"Well, that’s another item off our list then," Sinistra smiled vaguely, trying to make it sound positive when she clearly felt differently. "Shortens the meeting a little for now, doesn’t it?"

"Yes, true," Hooch threw in for good measure, tapping her leg with her notorious impatience plain on her face. "Why don’t we move on?"

"Ah, the yearly grade reports for the students," Filius suggested after a glance at his notes. "I collected them from everyone Minerva, and I shall arrange the portfolio for you. You were acting head at the time, despite Madame Umbridge’s interference, so I see no reason to throw it at you the last minute."

"Thank you, Filius," she responded, shuffling the papers in front of her. Severus noted with confusion the way she refused to glance up at the charms professor.

"I only need yours and then I’ll get to it tonight," Filius added, smiling in satisfaction at how quickly he could get past that particular hurdle.

Minerva swallowed dryly, from what Severus could see. “I… Forgive me, Filius, but that is another thing I have not been able to get to yet.”

Silence permeated the air as everyone blatantly stared at the deputy head. Poppy’s brows lifted, Pomona’s brows furrowed, and Filius looked simply confused. The rest were attempting to stop gazing in Minerva’s direction, but Severus doubted any of them were not thinking rather unkind thoughts of the Head of Gryffindor’s strange new work ethic.

"The supply list would be a good thing to discuss," Poppy decided suddenly, glancing at the notepad in her lap. "Minerva always has that ready, at least. Don’t you, Minerva?"

The sarcasm beneath her genuine question had Severus bristling. Was it really necessary to reprimand Minerva like a small child? Was it not obvious that she was trying desperately to catch up after the attack on her person little more than three weeks earlier? If anyone knew how difficult it was to play catch-up after a debilitating injury, it was Severus.

Minerva did not answer Poppy’s query verbally, but shook her head slowly from one side to the other as a reply. Rolanda clucked her tongue at Minerva’s apparent lack of organization and the others actually started to mutter about it beneath their breath.

Poppy huffed. “If you didn’t feel the need to complete it, Minerva, you should have told us to write our own. At least then Albus could have gone through them and created one.”

"I’m sorry," Minerva murmured, visibly shrinking in her seat. Or perhaps Severus was merely seeing things because he knew she must feel like that inside.

"Nevermind," Pomona sighed, agitated. "Why don’t we all put what we  _do_  have on the table?”

"Agreed," Filius sighed also, if a bit quieter.

A rustle of papers greeted the potions master’s ears as everyone save himself and Minerva ordered their work to set on the table. Severus’ silence was because had already neatly placed his in a folder, but Minerva’s lack of rustling seemed to be more along the lines of defeat. From the tiny stack on her lap, he suspected there were a great many more things his colleague had been unable to ‘get to’ since her return from St. Mungo’s. No doubt she had only been able to work on the most necessary plans, such as the school’s security measures.

Pomona, too, noticed this, although she spoke about it far less kindly that Severus had thought her capable of. “Really, Minerva, if you were so preoccupied, you should have told us so before calling the meeting. It’s not even productive now.”

"Honestly, though, what kept you so busy that your only job was neglected to this point?" Poppy reproached Minerva, a deep frown on her face. "What else do you have to do, but for work? It’s not like you go dilly-dallying anywhere. Your life has obviously been completely tied up here at Hogwarts quite exclusively for a long score of years."

Everyone seemed far more vocal about their disapproval now that Pomona and Poppy had both spoken their piece without any harsh comeback from Minerva, everyone beginning to call out the deputy head on her suddenly lax working habits compared to her demanding requirements made of them in recent weeks.

Severus rather wanted to tell them all to sod off.

"That. Will. Do."

Not a single person appeared very surprised by his interruption, which made him wonder just what kind of expression he had been wearing for the past hour or so. He found, however, that he did not care in the least.

"If you have finished degrading Professor McGonagall," he went on icily, "Perhaps you might take your meeting elsewhere? Rather than continuing to  _bore_  us with it here?”

"You’ll take any opportunity to snap at us, won’t you?" was Rolanda’s acidic remark. "Even when it means defending something you don’t approve of either!"

"I see no purpose in whittling away whatever confidence Minerva has built back up, even if I did disagree with her lack of preparation. Which I do not. Considering the fact that it is only because she was brutally attacked with four stunners to the chest three weeks ago and the previous so-called headmistress destroyed every bit of meticulous planning Minerva has had in place here for nearly  _forty years_.”

Those of the staff who had not been working at Hogwarts for even half of that time flushed a variety of pinks and reds. Pomona and Filius did not flush, but there was shame on their faces. To Severus’ extreme irritation, Poppy and Rolanda still did not look upset. He knew the two of them were friends, but he had no idea they were that deeply in cahoots.

"A wise mentality, Severus."

Everything skidded to an abrupt halt at the commanding, ringing tones which flooded the room in an unpleasant sheet of coldness. There was no mistaking that voice. Nor the anger underlying it.

"Headmaster!" Poppy spoke up (rather foolishly, Severus thought), clearly believing that her superior’s upset was not with her. "Finally, someone who can take charge."

"Yes, we certainly need that," Rolanda agreed rudely, although she did seem to realize how deep she was in now.

Minerva had steadily shrunken into herself as the unfriendly reprimands grew in both volume and insensitivity, and Severus now unhappily noted the growing presence of wetness in her gray eyes. Minerva McGonagall was never that emotional unless under extreme duress. And by extreme, the Head of Slytherin meant the ‘on-her-deathbed-ready-to-end-the-world’ kind of extreme. After the attack she had faced and the likely probability that she felt useless and weak and totally vulnerable, Severus felt that extreme was not too far from the truth.

"I will not be ‘taking charge’ of anything," Albus calmly, but coldly responded, his piercing blue eyes also focused on his deputy with great concern. "I am ending this meeting and tending to the abused emotional state of my  _dedicated_  and  _efficient_ deputy headmistress.”

Seeing the rapt attention everyone paid the man now, Severus gave into his deeply-buried need to go to Minerva’s side. Something in her right then reminded him of his own fragile mind and body after leaving the dark lord’s gatherings. There was a vast array of differences between the two situations, but he felt it all the same.

Minerva started when Severus grasped her hands in his own. With a gentler touch than he had ever been known for, the potions master wiped the few fallen tears from his colleague’s pale face. He caught her tearful gaze with an understanding one of his own. It was so rare, but if anyone aside from Dumbledore knew he could feel understanding on that level, it was Minerva. She saw more deeply than the others, and always had.

In the wake of Dumbledore’s staunch support, Pomona made to speak with a heavy frown, but was cut off sharply. “No, Pomona. I have heard enough to put off listening to your excuses for quite some time. I am ashamed of all of you. How you could sink so low as to continually debase Minerva after what she endured less than a month ago… Well, it goes without saying that I cannot understand it at all.”

"She has been out of St. Mungo’s for two weeks already, Albus," Poppy impatiently pointed out. "She doesn’t truly need her cane anymore and her medications should have healed the injury to a point of near-extinction. The healers have been keeping me updated most diligently on her progress."

"After what I found out today, Madam Pomfrey," Dumbledore announced in a hard voice that made the hair on Severus’ neck stand up. "I would not place so much faith in the healers who have been speaking with you."

"Wha—What?" Poppy spluttered, taken aback, but not nearly so much as Minerva. The tears had made more tracks down her face since Severus swiped the last ones away, and the sight of them shocked everyone in the room. It was only made worse by the fear in her eyes.

"Albus?" she tremulously prompted him, echoing Severus’ own worry over what had been done to her during her stay at the hospital.

"Nothing happened to you while you were there, my dear," Albus comforted her with great sympathy and affection, striding forward to kneel beside her chair. Severus moved away and allowed Albus take Minerva’s trembling hands instead. "It was merely that these particular healers misinformed us of your accurate levels of healing. They have since been ejected from any healing profession for their dishonesty."

"Why would they…?" Minerva tried to ask, but tears fell too heavily for her to speak properly.

"They were supporters of Cornelius," was the headmaster’s grave reply. "And consequently… Dolores Umbridge."

The gasps of everyone in the room pushed Albus to turn from his deputy, though he never let go of her hands. “Please leave.”

Severus stood immediately, but planned to wait until every last person had cleared the room. He was sick of them all in that moment. Even Filius and Pomona, whom he could normally stand well enough, grated very much on his nerves.

Reluctance oozed from every staff member, but Albus’ imperious and angry gaze convinced them it was for their general health to do as he asked. After the last person filed out, Severus turned back to the headmaster and deputy with quiet support. “If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask.”

"Thank you, Severus," Albus smiled, strained though it was. Minerva had begun to cry in earnest, just shy of a sob, and it was clearly paining Dumbledore beyond words.

Nodding curtly, Severus headed to the door and only glanced back once, to find Albus and Minerva both on the floor, she wrapped so tightly up in his arms that it was difficult to see her. Albus started rocking her tenderly, smoothing her black hair in continuous gentle movements.

Before the door closed them off from his sight, Severus could only think how much they needed each other. He had never been one for fate or destiny, but if he had been, he rather thought Albus and Minerva were fated to need each other as much as any two people in the annals of ancient folklore.

* * *

 


End file.
